Motility Equals Life
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: NFA Help Haiti ficlet. Life Equals Motility, but from the point of view of Gibbs and Ducky. Oneshot.


**A/N:** If you've been reading my other stories, you might think this is a mistake. It's almost exactly the same as _Life = Motility._ ...but it's not...exactly. Another Help Haiti ficlet request. I was to write a parallel story to _Life = Motility, _only from Ducky and Gibbs' points of view. So, here it is.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS, nor am I making money off these stories.

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**Motility = Life  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

It was like staring at a train wreck. People said it all the time, but it really was. Only this was worse.

"_Boss! Look out!"_

The truck had veered, tires squealed as Tony and Ziva had tried to stop. Tim had said nothing after the first warning. It was so quiet in the car.

_Spinning out of control...and that abrupt stop._

"Jethro, my word, are you all right?"

_The awful creak and groan of the falling tree._

"He's still in there, Duck. I couldn't get him out. I could barely even _reach_ him," Gibbs said, staring at the crushed car. He was sitting on the ground, unable to get himself to move.

"Timothy is still in the car?"

Gibbs nodded wordlessly. Tony and Ziva were getting looked over, despite their own protests that they were fine.

"They have to get the equipment in. There are so many other cars. I...I couldn't get to him."

Ducky nodded and then walked over to the car, barely visible amidst the foliage. He walked around to the passenger side, wedged between the trunk and the rest of the tree. He knelt down on the ground and reach a hand inside.

"Timothy? Can you hear me?"

No response. Only silence. He felt for Tim's hand, found one and then his wrist. A slow, faltering heartbeat.

"He's still alive, Jethro. Only just, but he's still there."

Gibbs got up and scrambled to the car. He took up a position beside Ducky. They took turns trying to speak to Tim, getting no response whatsoever, just the continuation of that faint heartbeat to encourage their feeble hopes. Then, a soft whisper.

"_...butterflies..."_

"What, Timothy?" Ducky asked, squeezing Tim's limp hand, getting no response.

"McGee!"

They could suddenly hear pained gasps for air.

"'_m...I dying?"_

"No, McGee. You're not dying," Gibbs said instantly, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest, caused by his own fear that Tim _was_ dying.

"Are you sure?" Ducky asked in a low voice. "He may be."

"I don't care, Ducky," Gibbs whispered back. "I'm not letting him think that he is." He raised his voice. "You're _not_ dying, McGee!"

They heard a long low groan.

"Just stay calm, McGee. You'll be all right."

"Hey! You got someone in there?" a voice called from up at the road.

"Yeah! Hurry!" Gibbs shouted back.

A number of emergency personnel came running over to the car, a couple were carrying the so-called "jaws of life". They began to examine the situation and determined that they'd need some heavier machinery to get the tree out of the way. It took another hour for the CAT to get there. As they backed it up, they got very close to jostling the car.

"Carefully. Carefully," Ducky said, his arm still inside the car, holding Tim's slack hand. "We're here, Timothy. Don't give up, now."

There was no response for a while.

"_Where...'m I?"_

"We're about to move the tree, Timothy," Ducky said, praying that there was hope. He couldn't even _see_ Tim within the car. The branches were too thick, too heavy.

Gibbs got up to talk to the EMTs, the police. Ducky stayed where he was, convinced that the best thing he could do would be to act as a link between Tim, trapped inside, and the outside world. Finally, he was rewarded for his efforts.

"Ducky?" Tim whispered, painfully.

"I'm right here, lad. Can you feel my hand?" Ducky squeezed Tim's hand yet again, hoping for some real response.

"...yes..." A faint squeeze in response.

"Oh, good lad. Very good, Timothy," Ducky said with relief.

Gibbs came back over and crouched down.

"They're getting ready," he said softly.

Ducky nodded.

"What's...happening?" came Tim's pained voice.

"We're getting you out. Don't worry."

"Ducky?"

"Yes, lad."

"Am I dead?"

"No!" Gibbs said vehemently. Ducky spared a hand to calm him down. It was clear he hated that he had come through unscathed while Tim was in such danger even now. Ducky looked back toward the road and saw Tony and Ziva arguing with the police, probably trying to force them to allow their help.

"I'm not moving," Tim whispered.

"No, you're not, but right now, that's a good thing, Timothy." There was definitely a risk of spinal damage in this case.

"You told me...before..." His voice trailed off. He sounded so very weak. What was going through his mind?

"Later, Timothy."

"Life...equals motility."

Ducky couldn't help it. He laughed. Of all the things for Tim to think about while trapped in a car.

"Yes, that's true, but as long as you're breathing. That's enough movement for life. Leeuwenhoek would agree, I think."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Then, he looked worried as one of the police officers came over.

"Steady him. We're ready."

Ducky looked helplessly at the car. "He's as steady as he can be."

Gibbs leaned forward and spoke into the occluding branches. "You ready for this, McGee?"

"For...what?"

How to explain just what was going to happen? Ducky decided it wasn't necessary. "Just hang onto my hand, Timothy. When the time comes, you'll see the others."

The tractor came in and began to lift the tree. At the same time, the EMTs and firemen moved in with the jaws of life, stretching up the roof of the car, shoring up the sides to make it possible for them to get in and get Tim out. A weak moan of pain and a tightening of Tim's grip on Ducky's hand was all the evidence they got of the agony he must be feeling. It seemed to take forever to get the tree out of the way, to reveal Tim to them...so that he wasn't just a voice.

The EMTs were crawling inside the car...and Ducky and Gibbs got their first look at Tim. Black eyes from the airbag. Gashes down the side of his face from the broken roof. The real danger was lower down, the possible crushing injuries he could have suffered.

"Ducky?" he whimpered, squeezing Ducky's hand again.

"Not just yet, Timothy. You'll be all right. The ambulance is here and as soon as we get you stabilized, we'll get you out of here."

Then, Tim's tone changed. "Ducky?"

Ducky heard the worry. Tim was aware enough to fear for the others. "Everyone else will be fine. You would have been, too, if hadn't been for the tree."

"The car crashed," he whispered.

"Yes. It did. On the way back from the crime scene. There was a pileup. The sedan was forced off the road, into the trees."

Tim tried to open his eyes and Ducky leaned in so that he could see him more clearly. The EMTs quickly assessed his injuries and then, after putting on a neck brace, carefully transferred him onto a stretcher.

"Boss," Tim said weakly.

Ducky gestured for Gibbs to come closer.

"We're here, McGee."

"I'm alive?" Tim asked as they strapped him down.

"You're alive," Gibbs said. Then, in a movement that Ducky wouldn't have expected from him, Gibbs put out a hand to stop the EMTs from moving Tim to the ambulance. He then placed the same hand very lightly on Tim's chest, just over his heart. Very little pressure, just so that Tim could feel it. If his expression was anything to go by, Ducky figured Gibbs was probably taking comfort from feeling Tim's heartbeat as well.

"Your heart is beating, Tim. You'll live," Gibbs said earnestly.

Tim nodded and his swollen eyes closed. Ducky let go of Tim's hand and the two of them watched as Tim was carted away.

"I hope you're right, Jethro. Timothy has a lot of problems to face from this."

Gibbs looked at Ducky and unexpectedly smiled. "It's like Leeuwenhoek said, Ducky. Motility equals life. That's all that matters."

Motility equals life.

FINIS!


End file.
